


Happy Birthday Suprises

by Chiyanna117



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, One Shot, such a gentleman, till he's not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 18:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12348189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiyanna117/pseuds/Chiyanna117
Summary: As personal assistant to the Avengers team, Rowan, is a popular sight in the Tower. When Tony throws her s surprise birthday party she just might get the best gift ever.





	Happy Birthday Suprises

"Happy birthday!" 

 

Screams assault my ears as I open the door to the dining hall. I've been playing assistant to the various members of the avengers for so long now that my first instinct is to duck and cover. Even after registering what they all said I can still only bring myself to peek back over the top of the rolling cart before confirming with my eyes that I'm not about to be blown up or something.

 

"And that my friends is how you know you've been hangin out with us for too long! Rowan, get out here!" I hear Tony's voice ring out.

 

I creep out from behind the cart I'd ducked behind. Everyone is here, and I mean everyone. Tony, Pepper, Steve, Sam, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, even Thor and Jane. There's Happy, Rhody, Maria, and holy shit, Ollie from the the Starbucks kiosk. Plus dozens more from here at the Tower. I know I'm blushing, but I can't seem to make myself stop. There are streamers everywhere, a huge banner proclaiming it to be my birthday stretching across the ceiling, and balloons tied in clusters and attached to the ends of all the tables. A temporary stage has been set up along part of one wall and there is a DJ set up there, next to him is a huge sheet cake proudly proclaiming my name and age. Someone is going to die for that. 

 

On the other wall is a full service bar and catered food buffet. Tony had given me no explanation when he’d called down, on my day off, and told me my presence was needed immediately in the dining hall, so I’d just thrown on a comfy halter top, my favorite jeans, and my zip-up field boots. If I’d known I’d have dressed better.

Everyone I've come to know and think of as my own totally warped little family is standing in the middle, waiting patiently for me to either say something or spontaneously combust. I clear my throat, bust into a huge smile, and tell myself very firmly that I am  _ not _ going to cry.

 

"I don't know what to say." I pause and look around for effect. "Except that I am  _ not _ cleaning this up afterwards." Tony bursts into laughter, and everyone cheers. Then they rush me. Claps on the shoulders from most of the guys, a few hugs and cheek kisses from the women. I grab Thor when he comes over to congratulate me.

 

"Thor, do a girl a favor?" I ask.

 

"Name it and it shall be done." he says around that big goofy grin of his.

 

"I am entirely too far away from the bar." I say, hoping he doesn't do something like pick me up and throw me at the bar. 

 

Clearing me a path would do just as nicely. I end up somewhere in the middle. Thor grabs me by the hips, hoisting me up and onto his shoulder, which I can sit on rather comfortably as broad as they are, and marches me over to the bar like I’d won the Superbowl. 

 

“Jack and Coke.” I yell down at the bartender. 

 

While I wait on the bartender Tony walks over and whispers something in Thor’s ear. Thor nods. Does anyone tell me what's going on? Nope. As soon as someone passes my drink up to me though Thor is on the move again, parting the crowd like the mountain he is, until he carefully deposits me on the stage in front of my cake. Tony hops up next to me, microphone in hand. This cannot be good. 

 

“They make me do it every year at my party too.” is all the explanation I get as he hands me the mic and jumps back down, leaving me at the mercy of what feels like thousands of eyes. 

 

“Thanks, everyone, for this. It’s awesome. When I applied to work here I thought I was just going to be Mr. Stark’s PA, do some secretary stuff, be bored, ya know. Then he told me I was going to be caretaker to all of the Avengers, and my mind was blown, but ok. Still just scheduling appointments, routing calls, picking up the dry cleaning right? Nope. I’ve followed them out on missions, had to learn first aid, I now know more about weaponry than I ever wanted to, and I’ve come to learn that even superheroes still forget to pack clean socks.” I pause for the laugher, and laugh myself when a few fingers get pointed. 

 

“I still route calls and pick up their dry cleaning, but it’s never boring. I’m smarter, stronger, and a better person in general after having to learn to deal with these guys. Playing den mother to this lot is not for the feint of heart. But they're like family now.” I have to pause and clear my throat again. 

 

“This is proven by their insane need to embarrass the shit out of me!” More laughing.

 

“Ok, so now that the mushy part is out of the way, someone get me a new Jack and Coke and DJ, send me off with some flare!” I yell, taking a page out of Tony’s book.

 

The DJ starts Owl City’s Firefly at the bass line, and it's kind of perfect. Till, as I spin around to put the mic on the table next to the cake, I trip and fall backwards. The gasp of the crowd and the feel of the floor never come though. Steve had been standing right there, probably to help me down, ever the gentleman, and caught me. Then promptly sent me crowd surfing. I finally end up back on my feet next to the bar again, were a new Jack and Coke is waiting on me. So is Steve.

 

“Nice catch.” I say with a friendly smirk over the music.

 

“What, you didn’t mean to do that?” he replies with a smile and knowing eyes.

 

For all my time spent with these guys, which is practically  _ all _ the time, I still get struck stupid by Steve’s eyes. They all have that one thing that I love most about them, like Thor’s voice, or Rhody’s sense of humor, but none of them are equal to Steve’s eye’s. I know he has to notice my tendency to stare but he’s never called me out on it, ever the gentleman. Till now maybe, but just as he’s opening his mouth I feel a tap on my shoulder. Taking the out I spin around to a smiling Bruce.

 

“Hey Bruce.” I greet him happily.

 

“Happy Birthday. I just wanted to see you before I leave. The crowd is making The Other Guy kinda twitchy.” he says with sad eyes. 

 

He always has sad eyes.

 

“Awww. That’s a shame. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, ok?” I promise him. 

 

I’ll take him some of the extra chunky chocolate chip cookies he likes. As he turns to leave I turn back to Steve, but he’s gone. So I wander around, socializing with the people who came, trading stories, correcting a few things. Like, Jenny from maintenance thought Bruce was Tony’s uncle. 

 

Some people are dancing up by the DJ, and I jump in as soon as I hear the beginning to Cupid Shuffle. I spend the first half of it trying to teach it to Happy till he finally gets it. This starts a series of songs that have dances to them, including the cha-cha slide and Tony even jumped in on the Electric Slide. That was gonna be the talk of the tower for a long time! Then the DJ moved on to other stuff and Natasha joined me in an attempt to make every guy in the room drool. Not that she needed help, but she did save me from a rather drunk Ollie by hip bumping him into Happy when he started getting handsy. 

 

While Happy was getting Ollie a cab, at least that's what I was hoping Happy was doing to him, Steve took up his spot watching us. I caught Clint staring at us too, although I was willing to bet all he was watching was Natasha. I still couldn’t figure out if they were a thing or not. They flirted openly enough, but never did anything to confirm or disprove an actual relationship. At one point Tony came by and pushed Steve over to where Natasha and I were dancing, but he doesn’t stay, probably not his style. Steve usually listens to mellower stuff. Tony likes to mess with him about it, something about acclimating to the right decade.

 

By the time the DJ ran out of dance songs and moved on to slower stuff I was exhausted. The crowd had thinned out and it was easier to get to the bar. With a large Jack and Coke in hand I made a sneaky exit to the side door to one of the small dining balconies for a smoke. Tony tried to object to my smoking once, which led to a conversation about unhealthy life choices, I won and he hasn’t brought it up since. Steve kinda scrunches his brow if he catches me, but he’s never said anything. Nobody else seems bothered , but still I try and be discreet. I started back in my late teens as a control mechanism for anxiety, I kicked the anxiety but not the habit. Still calms me down if I get riled up. 

 

A noise behind me makes me jump, causing me to spin around. It’s Steve.

 

“Hey.” I say as he leans up against the railing next to where I’d been standing, staring out at the city.

 

“Pepper is wrapping it up it there.” he nods his head back toward the door. “She’s taking Tony upstairs and the cleaning crew wants to get started.” 

 

“Oh. I should hurry then.” 

 

“No hurry, Tony promised an after-party to anyone with clearance to his penthouse.” 

 

Which would only be those of us that lived here or were part of the team.

 

“Bet Pepper loved that.” I joke. 

 

“She just made Thor swear to no roughhousing, but Jane said they’re going home.” he says with a laugh. 

 

“So they send you to collect me?”

 

“I was asked to entice you with the promise of drinking games.” 

 

“You coming?” I seem to catch him off guard, because he just shakes his head and blinks a couple of times. Like he’d been thinking of something else.

 

“To the after party.” I clarify. “I know you don’t like to drink.”

 

“It’s not that I don’t like to, it just doesn’t do any good. Metabolism is too high.” he says with a ‘hmph’ noise at the end.

 

“Oh, that must kinda suck. But hey, you could be my filter.” I’ve lost him again. 

 

“Watch me and make sure I don’t do anything stupid. And when I get too drunk for my own good you throw me over your shoulder, slap an out-of-order sign on my ass and haul me out of there.” I explain laughing a little at the look he gets on his face. 

 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll watch out for you.” he says with an odd look, but there’s a smile in it so I’ll take it. 

 

I snuff what’s left of my smoke, which isn’t much by this time, take him by the arm and pull him back inside. On the elevator ride I tell him all about my favorite drinking game, Waterfall, and explain the rules to him so he can referee. I know we’ll play cause Tony will never back down from a drinking challenge.

  
  


“Ha! Drink Tony!” I yell when he slips up and breaks the ‘can’t use nicknames’ rule. 

 

“It’s not a nickname! His name really is Happy. Isn’t it?” he argues as he takes a drink anyway.

 

“Nope.” I gloat, and take a pull off my own beer. 

 

I’d switched to my true favorite when I found out Tony had it in stock, Smirnoff Ice: Triple Black. Best beer in the world, even if Clint will only agree to call it ‘girly beer’. He’s passed out on the floor right now though, so his opinion doesn’t matter. Just me, Steve, Tony, and Natasha left.

 

“Hey, I think your D.D. is nodding off on the couch.” Natasha pokes me in the shoulder then points to Steve sitting over on the couch. Who promptly cracks open an eye.

“Nope, just waiting for Tony to pass out.” 

 

“Not gonna happen. I can do this all night.” Tony snarks back.

 

“Well I’m going to call it a night. Tony, you think you can help me get Clint back to his room. Pepper probably won’t appreciate his impersonation of a throw rug come morning.” Natasha asks. 

 

“What about Ca-, Steve” Tony catches himself before I can make him take another drink.

 

“He promised to walk Ro.” she arches a brow at Tony, challenging him to say he’s too drunk to do it. 

 

“Oh fine.” Tony throws his hands up before leveling a finger at me. “We will have a rematch.”

 

“Your on.” I return his half-hearted glare.

 

“Ok. Come on Rowan.” Steve says from right behind me.

 

“I can walk.” I say indignantly, before swaying and he has to catch me or watch me fall into the table. He catches me. “Or maybe you should help a little.” I give in. 

 

“Wait, grab me a bottle of water before we go please.” I ask. 

 

He sits me back down in my chair while he goes into the kitchen and grabs me a bottle water. I’m standing on my feet, only using the chair for balance when he gets back. He gives me his best disapproving look, but I wave him off as I reach for the water, which he hands it to me. Then while I’m focused on getting the cap open, damn Tony and his like of sports bottles, he scoops me up in his arms. Officially giving me vertigo, and causing me issue a very girly scream that I am not proud of. Once my head clears and I peel it up off his shoulder I glare at him and retrieve the water bottle from where it landed in the crook of my stomach. 

 

“That was uncalled for.” I grumble before I take a swig of the water. He just chuckles. I feel it more then hear it.

 

I finally convince him to put me down when we get off the elevator on my floor. We’ve still got a few hallways to go and he insists that I shouldn’t walk it, but I fight dirty and threaten him.

 

“If you don’t put me down I’m gonna give you a wet willy.” 

 

“If you so much as stumble, you go back up.”

 

“Deal.” I know what I’m doing. So he sets me back down on my own to feet, and they hold me. I through a triumphant grin at him and start down the hallway under my own power. “Told ya.”

 

“So you weren't that drunk after all.” he says it as a statement instead of a question. I don’t want him to think I’d tricked him, so I tell him my secret.

 

“Its the water. Don’t ask me why, cause I don’t know how it works, I just know it does. As long as its beer in your stomach and not liquor. Old Irish trick.” 

 

“So your Irish?” He asks.

 

“Yeah.” I say just as we reach my door.

 

“Well, I guess you didn’t need me after all.” he says, sounding a little dejected. I grab his arm as he goes to turn away.

 

“Steve? Whats wrong?” I demand more then ask. It’s not like him to be upset about not being needed, let alone not say good bye. “Look at me. If I said something to offend you I’m sorry.” I say, not intending to sound so pleading.

 

“It’s nothing. I just misunderstood something.” he says, and and I can see the hurt and frustration in his eyes when he does finally look at me. 

I have no idea what I said or did, but I’m ready to apologize for the whole night if I need to. I’m still trying to find the words, damn my intoxicated brain, when he speaks again.

 

“That. Why do you stare at me like that. You do it all the time.” he asks, and I’m so caught off guard I don’t know how to answer. 

 

I just stand there kind of gaping like a fish. He just drops his head and goes to turn and leave again, and I panic a little. My intoxicated brain doesn’t fail me this time though, now it does what I’ve never had the courage to do before. I reach out again, and this time when he turns to look at me I just stretch up on my toes and kiss him. He stiffens, but doesn’t pull away. When I settle back down on my feet he opens his eyes and just looks at me, and for once I can’t read him.

 

“That’s why.” is all I can think of to say. 

 

Words are definitely not my strong suit right now. When he doesn’t say or do anything I start to worry I’ve just screwed up everything. 

 

“I-” I start, but he cuts me off by leaning down and pressing his mouth to mine again. 

 

That same kind of chaste kiss I’d given him, just lips pressed together. My brain is still trying to wrap itself around all this, but my body doesn’t need any further instructions. It starts making decisions on it’s own, like stepping closer, bowing a little to press against his chest despite him being slightly bent over because he’s almost a whole head taller than me. 

 

My mouth parts a little and he starts to pull away, so I put my arm around his neck, holding him still so my tongue can brush against his bottom lip. He must have thought I was going to say something because once he realizes what I’m doing he stops hesitating. I feel his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and up a little so he can straighten up. My feet aren't even touching the floor anymore so I use the arm I have over his shoulder to hitch myself up and wrap my legs around his waist. He immediately repositions his hands under my ass to hold me up, and I can’t help the sighing moan that escapes my throat. 

 

“Door.” I break away from his mouth long enough to pant out.

 

He steps towards my door, adjusting his grip on my ass so he can hold me up with one arm, despite me holding at least part of my own weight up with my legs locked around him, while he gets the knob. I know all this because I can feel his muscles shifting under his shirt. He walks us through the door and kicks it closed behind us. I know that all the living quarters on this floor are all laid out the same, but I guess he doesn’t because he seems to stall out, not sure where to go. I pull away and extend an arm in the direction I know the bedroom is in, because it is pitch dark in here and neither of us can see much of anything. 

 

“There’s a bed that way, or a couch somewhere behind me.” I say before ducking my head to the side if his neck, kissing and nipping at the hollow just below his ear, working toward his collarbone.

 

I’m terrified if he loses his momentum he might revert back to his gentlemanly ways and think better of taking my still partially drunk ass to bed. I hear and feel a slight growl low in his throat, and I’m not sure if it’s in frustration or because he likes what what I’m doing, but it’s exciting as hell. Finally he turns the in the direction of the hallway to my bedroom. 

 

“There's a switch on the wall som-” I start.

 

“I can see, just had to wait for my eyes to adjust.” his voice is low and a little rough.

 

Music to my ears. He pulls the same maneuver for my bedroom door as he did for my front door, only not bothering to kick it closed this time. He walks up flush to the bed and drops me on it. Reaching down he grabs the hem of my shirt and yanks it up over my head and tosses it against the nearest wall. I brace my arms behind me for support as he goes back to kissing me again, letting me arch up against him. He snakes a hand around to the back of my bra to unclasp it, and pulls on the front to get it off me. I have to move my arms for the straps to slide off but he holds me up with the hand he’s got behind me. I wrap my arms around him once the bra goes the same way as my shirt and I can feel the tense muscles under his shirt. 

 

I’m in awe of how strong he is, I know I shouldn’t be, I’ve seen him lift some incredibly heavy stuff, but it still gives me chills. Especially considering how gentle he is when his hand finds my breast and brushes his thumb over my nipple. I gasp, throwing my head to gulp down some cool air.

 

“Am I being too rough?” he asks slightly breathless. Still rubbing my nipple with his thumb.

 

“God no.” I pant out. 

 

He could be rougher, but I don’t get the chance to tell him that before he’s kissing his way down my throat and stealing my ability to make words. I start for the hem of his shirt, creeping my hands underneath to feel the hard muscles of his back flexing. I bring my hands around to his chest, still under his shirt, and push against him. He pulls back from me and I tug at his shirt trying to get it up over his head, failing due to the angle I’m at. He gets the idea though and stands up straight to pull the shirt off, and I take the opening to attack the button and fly of his jeans. I just get his pants peeled back to expose his hips when his hand comes down and pushes me back against the bed. I flop back on the bed and he goes goes for my pants, getting them undone and running a hand from my hip to my ankle before grabbing the bottom hem of one leg and snatching them off me. 

 

They thud lightly off the same wall as all my other clothes. Shucking his pants, he prowls up the the bed towards me while I scoot myself back to give him room to get up on the bed with me. I’d intended to make my way to the middle, I mean what’s the point of having a king size if not for the copious rolling space, but before I get too far he grabs my ankle and tugs me back towards him.

 

“Where do you think your going?” he demands teasingly at me once he’s over top of me. One of his legs is in between mine, one arm over my shoulder, and the other down by my waist, effectively pinning me without actually touching me. “I have been chasing you all over this tower. Watching you. Offering to make bruce cookies. Riding around on Thor’s shoulders. Dancing with Natasha. Getting drunk and taunting Tony.” 

 

He’s been kissing me after every sentence, my jaw, my neck, my collarbone, everywhere he can reach without moving more than his head. Never my lips or nipples though, making him either an unconscious gentleman too ,or an incredible tease. 

 

“And now you’ve caught me.” I say breathlessly. 

 

My hands have been taking out my frustrations on the blanket above my head, but now I take the arm that's under where his arm is still pressed into the bed above my shoulder and reach down to grab to top of his boxer-briefs and pull his lower half down to rest against me. Simultaneously forcing his head level with mine, and letting me gage the erection he’s got hiding in them. I’m going to be sore tomorrow. But it’ll be worth it.

  
  
  



End file.
